


That Was Us

by Gabby



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Hotel Sex, I know, I'm Sorry, Implied Near Assalt, Sex From Behind, Showers, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, just go with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:06:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1513259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabby/pseuds/Gabby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When things escalate in a horrifying manner at a stake-out, Jake has no idea how to deal with his traumatized partner... and is surprised when she unveils emotions between them in a surprising way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	That Was Us

**Author's Note:**

> You might wanna just trust me on this one. ;)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Amy can't remember the last time, if ever, she'd felt like this.

 

Numbed. Jumpy. Frightened. Like the world is going in slow motion around her. Every noise disturbing her. Every wisp of air seeming more cold than it is. Weary of her surroundings.

 

She glances at Jake walking next to her, hotel room key in hand. His stance one of restrained aggression. His jaw clenched and tight. HIs fists curled at his side like he might snap at any moment.

 

It should scare her, too, she realizes but, it doesn't.

 

She's just relieved to be alive right now.

 

Well, _breathing_. She's pleased to be breathing.

 

And all thanks to the man opening their shared hotel room door right now. His movements steady and calm despite the untethered rage she had seen him unleash not to long ago.

 

She looks back on it like it'd been a distant memory and not an hours old occurrence.

 

Egan going at her, even as she threatened to shoot him. Pushing her down on the ground. Getting on top of her. His disgusting hands all over her body. Tugging at her blouse. His fingers undoing the buttons on her pants-

 

She'd froze.

 

All her training. Every single bit of self-defense tactics had gone out the window and she'd fucking _froze_ _up_ as the nasty son of a bitch had been trying to-

 

It had been a stake-out. That was all it was supposed to have been. An anonymous tip had led to she and Peralta heading Upstate where David Egan, a known drug dealer and small town pimp, was reported to be.

 

He had been there.

 

Everything had gone to hell.

 

While her partner had been cornered by Egan's cronies, Amy had found herself alone and trying to find their perp on her own... and then it happened.

 

Egan had caught her unawares, bull-dozing her down and knocking her gun away, then, began pawing at her, trying to tear at her clothes. Dread growing inside her as he got so close to-

 

Then, everything had escalated quickly. One minute she'd been on the ground with Egan on top of her, his foul breath huffing in her face and then he was just... gone, off her and it had taken a moment for to come back to reality.

 

It had been Jake.

 

She'd watched in a hollow daze as her partner and friend had transformed from the fun-loving, easygoing man she had known for so long... into someone she couldn't then recognize. Someone rageful. Angry. Steeped in a nasty stew of violence as he pounded his adversary's face in.

 

It'd been a short fight. One-sided mostly. Egan's a larger man and had gotten in a few hits, but Peralta's rage had given him an advantage over the drug peddler and it had taken her a while to come back to her senses and stop him, her softly spoken outpouring of his name finally making him stop in his actions and look at her like he had forgotten she was there, immediately being at her side, ignoring the pained groans of her would be assailant as he'd tended to her.

 

After that, it had all been a blur of local law enforcement and beat cops questioning her partner, eyeing the man with his face bloodied beyond recognition as he was handcuffed and pushed into a police vehicle to be put away for the night before she and Peralta could take him back to the city the next morning.

 

She'd recalled the uniform, a newbie based on his age and posture, taking a nervous glance at her, leaning against their car and huddled, her clothes rumpled, her blouse ruined even as she tried to keep it together, and then another towards her partner's bloody knuckles.

 

_"Um, we're gonna need to question your-"_

 

_"No."_  He'd interrupted and she had been close enough to hear the warning in his voice. _"You don't need to do anything. I just told you what happened. Just leave it."_

 

_"But, we still need to-"_

 

And his mild insistence had Peralta leaning closer to him, the officer reeling back a bit. _"I said leave it."_

 

She could hear him say that from her perch and even now, she could probably guess the expression on the rookie's young face even though he'd looked like he could hold his own, his entire being seemed to crumble under the steely gaze of the seasoned, older detective and he had mumbled an apology before scadaddling on his way.

 

And now they're here in an out-of-the-way motel because after hearing about what had happened to her, Holt had demanded they set up to rest somewhere and come home with Egan the next day, brooking no argument from the both of them because the drive isn't _that_ long back to Brooklyn but, they're both too dirty and tired to do otherwise.

 

"Hey." She comes back to the present at the sound of Jake's voice, seeing him hold his hand out, the door behind him open. "Come on."

 

She looks at him for a long while before stepping forward, passing him into the room, his hand, large and guiding, on the small of her back.

 

She doesn't know what else to do so, she settles for sitting on one of the beds, her weight making it bounce slightly as she watches Jake move around the room. Locking the door. Closing the shutters and drapes. Turning on lamps.

 

Even in her state, she knows coping tactics when she sees them. "Jake..."

 

He removes his leather jacket and she eyes the tense muscles moving under his clothes as he paces for a few minutes before he's right there, kneeling in front of her, hands running up and down her arms as though chasing away the last few hours from her frame and it almost helps. If only by a small amount. And she finds it odd that she's not flinching away.

 

His ministrations stop at her hands, placing his own on her knees, peering into her eyes, his own gaze steady. Dark. Deep. Stormy. _Penetrating_. Her breath hitching as he leans in close to her, his own smelling of something bracing and dark. The opposite of what Egan's had smelled like. Rotted eggs and bad diner food. "You okay?"

 

She mods mutely, without words for the moment.

 

Those same eyes swing over her face, as if trying to peg if she's lying or not and she doesn't blame him because she, herself, has no clue if she is. "OK." He says after a long silence, stroking a thumb on her knee. "Do you need anything? You wanna take the shower first or..."

 

"You... I want..." She stammers, her throat tight. "You go..."

 

She has no idea how to tell him she _doesn't_ want him to go but, that she also would like time to herself.

 

The worry on his face only increases but, he nods after a beat. "Alright. I'll be back in a jiff, I promise. Just relax here for a bit. I won't be long." He stands up and casually kisses her forehead before being on his way.

 

She has no recall over how long she sits after he leaves to the bathroom, the area where his lips had been on her hairline burning. An odd sensation taking hold inside her.

 

She dimly remembers the last month of their relationship. The six months he'd been away. Her break-up during those months. The fragile balance between them when he'd come back. Never mentioning that night in the parking lot before he'd gone away. Even though she hadn't stop thinking about it herself.

 

She thinks of the way he'd almost killed Egan after he had attacked her. The complete and utter rage he had released.

 

Yet despite how angry and out of control he had gotten, he'd also stopped the minute she called for him.

 

He'd calmed. He'd gentled. For her. He had... made her feel _safe_.

 

_So safe_. She'd never felt safer than when he had held her until the local police had arrived.

 

She thinks about knowing how he looks at her when he thinks she's not aware. How _she_ looks at him when she knows he's definitely not aware.

 

She thinks about those big, full lips. The hint of mint and black coffee on his breath and if he'd taste as good as promised.

 

Her eyes automatically slide to the bathroom door, realizing now the sound of running water going on.

 

_He's taking a shower._

 

She exhales as an image of him, wet and naked, beneath the spray of the hot shower takes over her mind. The muscles she knows is under his clothes at work every day moving and rippling with rivulets of water running down firm, toned skin.

 

God, what the hell is wrong with her? She _shouldn't_ be thinking about this! After what had almost happened, she shouldn't be-

 

But, she is. She really is. They both could have died tonight and she had nearly been-

 

This isn't the most kosher manner to act on locked away feelings for someone but, she has to do something.

 

She just wants to _feel_ again. Wants to chase away this hollowness with something else. Wants to fill it up with... a _better_ feeling.

 

There's a sensation growing inside her. A heat. A wanton desire to indulge in this need. This ache.

 

And in a away that only the man behind that bathroom door could help her with.

 

She looks at the door again. Makes a decision.

 

Her fingers reach up to unbutton her blouse.

 

 

 

 Jake sighs as the hot water cascades down his worn out frame leaning his hands on the shower tiles as he breathes deeply and shuts his eyes.

 

 It has been an exhausting night, to say the least.

 

He had... completely lost it.

 

 Yet now as he looks back on it, he can't say that he could have done anything different. Not with this. Not when it's _Amy_ , of all people. He could have killed Egan - _had_ nearly killed Egan - for so much as _looking at her wrong_ , let alone putting his grubby hands on her with the intent to-

 

When the local police had arrived, they had taken one look at Egan, with his bloodied face as well the matching blood all over his own knuckles and looked about ready to pounce on the out-of-town detective for hours of questions before they had finally noticed Amy over at their car, arms wrapped protectively around herself, face streaky with dried tears and clothes rumpled on her shaking frame.

 

And when they'd looked back at him, he had simply cocked a brow, daring them to bother asking stupid question when the scene before them was as clear as day.

 

He shudders as he thinks of what he could have stumbled onto had he been a minute late to that awful scene.

 

The only thing he regrets now is that Amy had to see him like that. So enraged and angry that he had all but, forgotten his surroundings, only focusing on the son of a bitch beneath him as he pounded his face in.

 

(A later hospital report would tell him he had done _quite_ a bit of real damage. Broken nose. Fractured cheekbone. Two black eyes. The works, basically.)

 

Which, you know, he should know better. Amy's a grown woman. And also a cop so, past experience has shown him she could basically handle most things that other women probably couldn't.

 

She's one of the strongest women he's ever known but, she's still a woman. Human. Able to be scared, given the circumstance.

 

Also, his feelings for her hadn't helped anything either because as much as he could keep telling himself that it had been his duty as an officer of the law as well as his right to defend his partner that caused him to react in that way, he'd really be stupid now, when he's alone and in his own head enough to not recognize the sound of a rustling nearby, to not realize that his affections for her, that had developed to an even higher level during his six months undercover and a lot more since he'd been back, had a lot to do with the way he had-

 

 The touch of familiar, petite hands on the bare skin of his back alerts him back to the present and he knows _who_ it is before he even turns around.

 

She looks so vulnerable. Standing there, tousled and fragile and even though his eyes don't stray down from her face, he knows she's just as naked as he is.

 

Which is to say, _completely_. She's as naked emotionally as she is physically.

 

And so. Achingly. Devastatingly. Beautiful.

 

And as he looks into those big, expressive, doe-eyes, he can also see all that desire. The lust and need he'd always held at bay, reflected there.

 

It stuns him. "Amy...?"

 

Her finger on his lips shut him up immediately and he gazes at her in surprise as she moves closer, her own lips parting, her eyes on his mouth before she's right there and removes that lone finger, only to replace it with those pliant lips now.

 

He exhales sharply as they move against his own. Softly. Gently. Sweetly.

 

And she keeps her eyes open, which is interesting because it's the first time he's ever kissed someone with both their eyes not closed, and he can see _everything_. The way her pupils blow up to twice their size. The flushing of her skin. The fluttering of her black lashes against her cheekbone.

 

He could feel how soft and plush her lips on are on him. How sweet and almost innocent they are. The equally as soft, almost inaudible, little sounds she's making as he responds carefully to her. The hint of spice on her breath as it enters and releases from his mouth.

 

It's maddening. And pulls at his control so much that when she lays hands on him again, running her fingers down his chest while adding more pressure on his lips, he ends it. Pulls his face away from hers, his breath shaky and harsh. His eyes shutting in effort to calm himself.

 

"Amy..." He's having such trouble controlling himself that his lungs even feel the brunt of the effort, his breathing harsh and ragged. "... Oh my God."

 

"What's wrong?" She reaches up to touch his face and he grabs at her wrists, holding those tiny fists hostage in his hands. "Did I do something wrong?"

 

"No, no, no, no..." He replies in a rushed whisper, head still turned slightly, eyes still closed to keep from looking at her. "You didn't... nothing wrong... it's not..."

 

He's hard. He's so hard right now he could cut glass. And he finds it only mildly embarrassing that it'd taken just the mostly chaste contact of her perfectly soft lips to get him that way. To turn him on like this.

 

The affections he's held at arm's length for the longest time is combining with the nearly animalistic possessiveness that had part of the bigger reasons he'd reacted in such a violent way to finding Egan on top of her in those woods.

 

It's unnerving. And more than a little scary.

 

He thinks about other women from his past. How now, Amy Santiago can test his self-control with the innocent touch of her lips in a way they can only imagine.

 

"Jake..."

 

After taking a deep, long breath, he lets it out and turns, opening his eyes to finally look at her.

 

She's gazing at him. Her formally vacant, dark eyes now have a bit of that spark back and he has to fight to keep his own eyes on her face. "Why'd you come in here?"

 

She looks so uncertain his heart almost breaks for her but, he waits it out and she hesitates before responding in a raspy voice he could feel in his groin. "I want... I-I need..." She stutters and it is so unlike her that he asks. "You need... what?" And steps closer to her, seeing her throat jump at the move yet still standing still as he moves.

 

Her eyes peer up at him, her neck craning a bit and it's at times like this that he remembers that he's taller than her. Not by much, just, she's always wearing those thick, sensibly chunky heels of hers so, it's never been something he's thought about much but, now? She's standing here naked, joining him in a shower, about to get ready to give herself to him. No heels in sight. And also, the gap between five-foot-four and five-foot-eleven is a big one so, it's hard to _not_ think about it.

 

Her eyes travel along the length of him, biting her lip in such a way that sends all his blood south. Her gaze lingering on his shoulders, chest, his stomach, and then his-

 

She exhales sharply at the sight of him, riding high and proud on his pelvis, her tongue flicking out to lick her lips, and he feels that appreciation all the way through his bones and when she meets his eye again, he has no doubt anymore over what she wants. What she needs.

 

"You want this?" He curls a lock of silky hair on her shoulder, smoothing it out of the way before trailing a lone finger over her collarbone, almost certain he can hear her heart pounding as hard as his own. "Hmm?" _He's_ the one to lean down and kiss her this time, much the same like she had him, only with more pressure, only tilting her face up with one hand and now, the sound she makes is irrefutable and louder, a moan thrumming between them as he tastes her tongue lightly, realizing only now that she tastes like something sweet and kinda spicy, like cinnamon before he pulls back a bit, bringing his little fantasy from a moment ago to life, ending the contact with a slight tug at that bottom lip and then soothing it in between his teeth.

 

When he opens his eyes to meet hers again, she's staring at him with her own big, glimmering ones, her breath coming in short pants that ghost over his lips. "Is that what you want?" He whispers, husky and low, staring directly into those eyes. "You want me... Is that it?" He leans close, just a hair away from her. "Are you sure?"

 

They're so close now he could feel a tremor go through her and after a long beat... she nods.

 

He leans down slowly, giving her a minute to adjust to this new thing between them, before he's right there again. A light, gentle pressure. Feather light to mild caressing of their lips and tongues on each other. Stopping to share breath every now and then.

 

He's calm with her. He's slow. And tender. And... almost sweet.

 

He's not gonna rush this. No way. He's waited too long. Has been patient. And he's not gonna stop that tonight.

 

He keeps it this way for a while. Keeping his attention on her soft, full lips. Not grabbing her or anything she would see as forceful or threatening. Just caressing his tongue on hers, drawing out those sweet little sounds again, her palms finding the hard planes of his chest to anchor herself to lean up into him and he encourages her, sliding his hands into her dark hair, groaning at her touch.

 

Yet, despite this. The clear reciprocity. The willingness. The fact that she'd initiated this. Her quiet eagerness... She's still holding back. Turned on but, nervous. High-strung and aroused.

 

And when he goes for a test touch, brushing his knuckles along the apex of her inner thigh, she jumps a little, trembling when he pulls his lips away from hers and he thinks it's mingling of her growing excitement and left-over energy from before.

 

"Shh..." He hushes, smoothing his fingertips down her arms, nuzzling his nose onto hers. "Easy, alright?"

 

She just nods, leaning up for another, extended kiss that turns passionate fast and he can feel her temp rise. Her need beginning to take over. Her lips becoming more and more eager.

 

He wants to keep it slow. She'd started this but, is making it clear to him that he can lead the charge tonight. And he is, although keeping the ball in her court to stop them whenever she wants. Give him a sign that she would like to go further.

 

He pulls away before they can get carried away, cupping her face and gazing into her big, expressive eyes looking back at him, a world of trust and desire there. And they hold each other's eyes for a while under the steam of the hot shower.

 

Then, she smiles at him. A just-shy of teeth-baring, small, warm smile that makes him wonder exactly what's she seeing in him then. What's causing her to look at him with that amount of a kind of affection.

 

Either way, he smiles back and goes in for another kiss and it spirals back from zero to sex in not time flat. Her arms coming up and wrapping around his neck. His hands roving over her back. The curve of her spine arching instinctively under his touch. The moan he swallows with his mouth.

 

Also, despite the fact that he's not once looked down to look at her naked body, he can certainly feel her as she, for the first time, press herself on him and he groans at the initial contact. The mesh of her bare breasts. Her erect, pebbled nipples rubbing onto his chest. The smooth skin of her tummy. The slender set of her arms and shoulders.

 

And she's soft, too. _Soo_ soft. Soft and sweet and god, he should _really_ be careful here.

 

And it feels even better as he walks them backwards into he still hot shower spray and she gasps into his mouth at the new sensation, the jolt of electricity between them, and they stand there for a minute, enjoying the slip and slide feel of one another thanks to the showerhead above them and he reaches for the motel-grade soap, following each other's lead as they lather the other up, using the relaxing cleansing ritual as an exploratory tool. Amy outlining the stretch of muscles on him. The scars from his years on the force. And he obviously can't ignore that coping a feel of his ass as she suds up his back. And he also does some wandering and admiring of his own of her bare curves. The fit hourglass of her shape. The perfect, umber-tipped globes of her breasts that perk up under his fingertips as he lathers them up. A lovely palmful. Sliding wet, eager, soap-soaked hands over the feminine terrain of her stomach and the alluring swell of her hips, flaring out from the tuck of her waist. Getting down on his knees to pay the same attention to her longer-than-he-thought-possible legs, winking at her with a playful, lascivious grin when she giggles as he cleans her feet.

 

When all's said and done, they end up making out under the warm spray, soap suds going down the drain between them.

 

He's so caught with kissing her, in fact, that he actually forgets that his erection is still persisting until he's got Amy up against the nearest wall, both soaked and flushed by now, and while he's busy laving the area behind her ear that he knows is driving her crazy, those tiny nimble fingers of hers start trailing down taut stomach, though before she can reach her clear destination, he's grabbing her wrist and pulling his mouth away from her neck, pinning her hand next to her head.

 

"No. You." He murmurs on her lips, reaching a hand down to stroke her on the wet heat between her legs, swallowing the raspy gasp yanked out of her with a deep kiss, loving the way her tongue tangles and battles with his. "Just you." He whispers, his jaw tightening as he watches her eyes flutter. Feels her pulse spike under the husky tone of his voice and the steady rhythm of his touch.

 

Once he receives what he wants, gathers up that arousal that's just for him, he stops his caress, reaching back up and showing her the evidence of her desire for him, the glisten of her juices... right before he settles the two fingers into his mouth and then hers, keeping his gaze on her the whole time as she sucks the entirety of herself off and then he's replacing his digits with his lips, both groaning as they taste her essence flavoring their kiss.

 

And it's not enough. She's tasty as _sin_ \- something dark and rich he can't necessarily place at the moment - and the eroticism of having to watch her lick what she has to offer off his fingers has him wanting more. Wanting more than anything to get down between her thighs and gorge himself on her.

 

So, that's what he does.

 

He starts a trail from her neck. Sucking a hickey onto her breasts as he tends to them dutifully, cradling them gently before going further down her body. Kissing her tummy while leading the captured wrist to the back of his head, encouraging her grip as he reaches right where he wants to be.

 

She's truly a sight. Deep pink and glistening. And when he leans in, it's with the most tender, sweet attention, as if he's kissing her mouth. Opening his mouthy wide and sliding his tongue up inside her and lifting one of her legs onto his shoulder to give him a better angle to feast on her. Sucking her flesh in with the edge of his teeth, hearing through the roar in his ears, the heightening crescendo of the sounds she's letting out. The gasps. The moans. The higher, wanton cries. The way her fingers tense and relax into his hair as he pleasures her. Drawing out her release. Prolonging it because the more sweet nectar he encourages to flow out, the more he wants to _stay_ where he is, slipping two fingers inside her to bump up on that enflamed nub, working it expertly while licking her ardently.

 

And also, fuck, does she taste good. Like, he could stick around down here forever, she's _that_ addictive. And he absolutely thinks he's got it now - her essence, her flavor, her  _release_ \- because she tastes like everything good and delicious and fulfilling. Like dark honey and molasses. And as he dares to peak up at her during his ministrations, he groans at the sight of her, fondling and pinching her own nipples, tugging at them as her head throws back against the shower tiles, her eyes shut. The picture she paints both erotic and surprising. 

 

"Hmm." He hums as she cums into his mouth, that grip on his scalp tighter than tight and sure to give him a bald spot later yet he could care less as he continues to touch inside her, flexing his wrist and kissing up her body this time. Her heaving, contracting stomach. Her ribcage where her heartbeat is hammering under his lips. The pebbled tips of her breasts that he takes into his mouth, gently grazing his teeth before tonguing up her throat and then into her mouth, the resulting kiss deep and passionate and damn near pornographic to the point where it devolves into licks and inconsistent suction, Amy moaning and gasping into the minute air between them. Her gaze dark and glazed. Fluttering. Her face beautifully flushed. Her breath panting and uneven in his mouth. Her thigh lifting up and over his hip so, that he could feel her wider. Fit her better. Take her higher-

 

She climaxes for the second time tonight. A moan combined with a call of his name escaping her as she comes apart in his arms. Shaking. Trembling. Murmuring _oh my god_ as he holds her. Stroking her hips. Her waist. Kissing her hairline while muttering sweet nothings on her skin. Holding her tightly. Comfortingly. A contrast to the carnality of his earlier actions.

 

Eventually, she's breathing more evenly and peppering kisses of her own on his bare chest. Palming the planes there as she admires his torso. Sliding her hands down his abdomen. And he smiles, allowing her to indulge. The sweetness of her gestures causing his chest to tighten in a not unpleasant way.

 

They eventually take it out of the bathroom and he leads her to the bed, maneuvering her onto her stomach and settling behind her, crawling up her body with caresses and kisses. His hands sliding over her sides. Lips pressing along her spine. Tongue licking a trail on her shoulderbaldes. Laying gentle attention from the side of her neck up to an area behind her ear that he'd discovered back in the shower, the sucking sensation causing her to shudder and murmur his name.

 

He trails back down much the same way, ending up back where he'd started. Taking in the sight of her from behind, fondling the sweet, round globes of her ass, feeling her body still as he does. The newly rigid lines of her frame indicative of someone holding their breath.

 

"Relax." He utters softly, seductively. Willing her to calm down. Trailing a finger down her opening. Spreading her legs wider with his knee before taking hold of her curvy hips. The two fitting perfectly in between his hands. "I'm not going there, if that's what you're thinking." He adds, bemused that she would think in that direction now. Considering the circumstances that had brought them here, this isn't exactly the most ideal first time for them but, this is certainly one of his favorite fantasies that he will not pass up.

 

He takes a hold of one of her hips, the other going to his cock and making sure to keep her steady, closing her thighs together, and then pressing into her from behind, his jaw clamping shut as he feeds himself to the heat between her legs. Fighting his control as he watches her, pink and glistening, spreading around him. The swells of her ass coming becoming flush with his pelvis. The sensation of her, snug and ready, going straight to his head.

 

He's always thought about this. Her. How'd she would taste. How'd she feel surrounding him. And this? This is very much exceeding his expectations. She feels so good his head is spinning and he falls forward, holding himself slightly aloft and beginning to move, almost without his own conscious permission. Straddling her as his hands cover her own without his real notice.

 

And her reaction is just as, if not _more_ , spectacular. She moans, nice and loud, backing up into him almost immediately, her fingers caving into the bedsheets automatically as he starts moving within her. Multiple _ohs_ and _ahs_ and _oh gods_ escaping from deep in her as he takes her. Taking her hands from under his to momentarily grasp at his thighs behind her. Fingers pressing into skin as he slows down before bottoming out completely, his front meeting her back and her fantastic ass moving minutely to meet his thrusts. Their hands falling together again as their bodies merge together, the only area of Amy's frame extended off the bed being her shoulders, almost as if unconsciously welcoming his mouth there. His open, sloppy kisses on the sides of her neck and face, tasting her golden skin as they both start breaking out into an exerted sweat.

 

And from his new angle, he could see her a lot more clearly now. Her eyes shut. Her rosebud of a mouth open with her moans and cries. Tiny strands of dark hair sticking to her forehead.  Powerfully erotic _and_ damaging to his control.

 

She continues with those amazing little dirty sounds. One of her hands coming up behind her to grasp the nape of his neck briefly, nails trailing down as he re-emerges from inside her to where the tip of him is the only thing submerged before he moves back home, thrusting at a pace somewhere between harsh and slow as he can go at this point and she gasps wildly, a hand slamming down on the sheets to clutch them tightly as he sneaks hand to one of her breasts along with that move, the mound of flesh pressing into the roughness of his palm, and causing her to clench around him, angling his upper body away from hers before dropping back down with a tortured groan.

 

His hands are everywhere, too. Roving all over her. Up and on her sides. Her tiny waist. The swell of her hips and ass. Yet always moving. Jolting in and out. Giving her all he has and making her take it. _All_ of it.

 

He sits up, gathering those hips to him with a hard tug, watching his cock going outside of her... then right back into the root of her, the sight of her bouncing slightly in front of him tearing at his self-control once more. The noises she's making. The way she repeatedly calls his name in the manner he'd only ever dreamed of until now. _That_ feeling. That possessiveness he had always hid until it'd been brought out in him a few hours ago. The way she submits to him completely, reaching behind to grab herself to thrust back into him. Encouraging him. Bringing forth a growl from deep within his chest.

 

He just wants her so much. He wants to tear her apart. He wants to ravage her. Wants her surrendering to him until there's nothing left. He wants to... protect her. Keep her all to himself so, she'll never be hurt again, the way she had almost been tonight. Wants to take care of her. Wants to... _love_ her.

 

It's all too much to handle and he finally gives in, falling forward once again and covering her body with his own, sliding his hands under arms he's able drape one over her own tearing up those white, motel-grade sheets. Their fingers nestling tightly together. His other hand sneaking under her to manipulate that nub of sensitive flesh to bring right _there_.

 

Then, she's clenching. Crying to the point of sobbing his name. Her fingers tightening on the bed. Her spine arching as she tumbles. Her face the picture of ecstasy.

 

It's beyond awesome. Amazing. Exceeds even his wildest dreams. But...

 

... But, he _keeps_ going. And going. And then  _going_. Until she crests again, her cries louder than loud and pleading at this point as he cums shortly after her this time, letting go of an exhaustive of himself inside her willing body, his hips jerking unevenly against her 'til he can slow it down. Caging her into an embrace. His eyes shutting tightly. His teeth chattering in his mouth so much that he's almost afraid he might bite something off. His body mildly shaking as he settles over her until he can keep still. Calm.

 

He has no idea how long they stay that way. He's far too busy enjoying the feel of her close to him. Underneath him. The sensation of her skin on his. The way her hair smells close to his nose. But, he has to eventually open his eyes and when he does, the first thing his gaze falls on is their hands. Clasped together. Fitting, like the rest of them has tonight, perfectly. Made for each other.

 

He also can't help but, notice the sweat cooling on both their bodies.

 

_So much for that shower._

 

He doesn't realize he's murmured that into Amy's skin as he presses his lips there until he feels her body shake a little with her laughter and he chuckles with her, dropping an affectionate kiss to the nape of her neck before rolling off her and despite the now tired heaviness of his limbs, grabs a few pillows from the headboard as well as the thin white sheet to cover them up some, tossing on their lower halves before extending a pillow out to her  for her head to slide onto and then doing the same afterwards.

 

"What was that?" She asks, her voice sounding scratchy and wonderfully breathless, causing a pang of pride to knock in his chest as he remembers he's done that to her.

 

He settles down close to her, lying on his side to peer into her beautiful face. Her expressive eyes, dark and luminous. Wearing her post-coital glow very well. "That was us." He replies, to his surprise, with ease. In spite of the extreme emotionally resonance of his words that even he's aware of. "Together. Finally." He runs hand freely down her back, not getting over how soft she is. "Pretty great, huh?"

 

She simply looks at him, all softness and affection. Making him get _that_ sensation in his heart. "It was incredible." Then, she leans in a few scant inches, giving him a short, firm kiss and then pulling back a little, gazing at him for a long beat before saying. "You're a wonderful man."

 

He doesn't expect her to say that (and so sincerely, too) and his chest tells him so by tightening up real good. "Amy..." He hears himself respond in awe.

 

"I know." She interrupts him with a small, warm smile, cupping the side of his face, making kinda _melt_ into her. "I know. I'm glad this happened, too."

 

That's... actually a little better than what he'd wanted to say. Much more simple. The long stream of stuff on the tip of his tongue are things she's not necessarily ready to hear yet and he goes to his default of humor to lift the mood. Smiling at her lasciviously. "I'll bet you are..." He says, leaning in for a kiss that she stops with a fingertip on his lips.

 

"Jake." She utters with a small amount of sternness. "I meant this." She adds, tapping the area of his chest where his pounding heart is.

 

He remembers those six months. Those six months he spent away from her on that FBI undercover op. How he'd confessed things before he had left. How much he'd missed her. How he had wanted to go home so badly but, dreaded it all the same. Dreaded coming back because he wouldn't have been able to stomach the possible rejection waiting for him. Or the other way around. Coming back to her waiting for him with open acceptance only to realize he's not ready. Holding back from getting what he wants because of his fear of letting her down. Not being enough for her.

 

Now, he's here. With her. In a way he'd never dared hope for.

 

And as he kisses with all the passion and emotion he can't put into words, their appetite for each renewed and stronger than before, he thinks this is it. He could get used to this.

 

Yeah. This _is_ pretty great.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Did you trust me? Are we there yet? Also, sorry about the weird double spacing here. I was doing a whole copy/paste thing and it backfired on me. Hope it wasn't too distracting. :)


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